Hidden within the southwestern expanse of Pokljuka, a high karst plateau ensconced in the Julian Alps, one discovers a multitude of Alpine pastures adorned with weathered wooden huts, seemingly untouched by the passage of time. Some of these huts have evolved into cozy tourist lodgings, while others remain true to the rustic heritage of the shepherd families. During the summer, hikers can pause for a taste of delectable homemade cheeses, tangy sour milk, and occasionally, locally cured meats and štruklji—a welcome respite amidst their wanderings along the extensive trails of Pokljuka.

In winter, a sense of tranquil isolation envelops these pastures. From late autumn until mid-spring, many of the pastures, especially those at higher elevations, lie unpopulated and inaccessible by car. They can only be reached by intrepid explorers equipped with skis or snowshoes. Set against a backdrop of towering peaks in the Julian Alps and nestled within the dense forest, the Alpine pastures of Pokljuka offer ideal winter hiking destinations, affording breathtaking vistas of a winter wonderland.

Like many remarkable treks in the Julian Alps, including the scenic route to Triglav, this journey begins at Rudno Polje, a sports center situated at 1,350 meters, primarily dedicated to Nordic skiing and biathlon. About an hour into the trek through the towering fir forest, I veered off the main path leading to Triglav and followed a sign directing me downward to discover the untamed snow-covered terrain, devoid of marked trails. Trusting my instincts (confirmed by a tracking app), I soon caught sight of the first small hut in the distance. As I drew nearer, the landscape unfolded in its full beauty. Approximately a dozen charming huts were scattered across a kilometer-long clearing, surrounded by towering mountains.

To the west, the Sleme ridge stretched from south to north, culminating in the highest peak, Ablanca, at 2,005 meters. Like a grand amphitheater of peaks, they continued from the northwest to the north—Veliki and Mali Draški Vrh at 2,240 meters and 2,132 meters, respectively, and Viševnik at 2,050 meters. On the eastern side of the pasture, the rocky cliffs of Plesišče peak, standing at a modest 1,790 meters, loomed overhead—a distinctive landmark on the traditional route to Viševnik.

Not a trace of other human presence marred the pristine snowscape. Occasional footprints of deer, chamois, and hares provided the only testament to life thriving in this pasture even after a substantial snowfall. I settled upon my backpack, relishing the solitude, and listened to the gentle babbling of a small stream wending its way from the snowy mountains to the valley. The pasture appeared idyllic, remote, and untamed beneath its thick snow cover—a stark contrast to the vibrant activity it typically hosts in the summer.

As the sun began its descent behind the Sleme ridge, casting a chilly shade over the landscape, I pressed onward toward my next destination: the Uskovnica Alpine village.

I crossed the Ribnica stream once more, this time traversing a wooden bridge spanning a gorge carved by the flowing water. Shortly thereafter, I arrived at a small village nestled amidst a remote expanse punctuated by hillocks. First mentioned in the 15th century, Uskovnica originally served as a hub for summer dairy farming. In the 19th century, it also became a rest stop on the route to Triglav. In the 20th century, Alpine tourism began to flourish, a legacy that continues to thrive today.

As captivating as it was, I refrained from lingering long and set my sights on the final destination of the day: the Zajamniki pasture. With just an hour remaining until sunset, photographing the Zajamniki Pasture at sunset, adorned with fresh snow, had long been my aspiration.

You may wonder how I retraced my steps to the car. In essence, it involved another 6 kilometers of hiking and a 230-meter ascent, added to the previous 12 kilometers and 420-meter ascent, all in fresh snow—and at night. Fortunately, half of the return journey unfolded across open terrain, illuminated by the radiant glow of the full moon. The remainder of the trek was passed in conversation with my trusty canine companion, contemplation of the famed Pokljuka wolves, and the reassurance that there was a certain charm in savoring the hike in blissful ignorance, with only the few meters illuminated by my headlamp to guide me. Against all odds, I emerged unscathed.

In jest aside, I cherished every moment of the hike and wouldn't have had it any other way!

Zajamniki, 1,280 meters

Smaller in scale compared to Uskovnica, Zajamniki presents one of the most romantically picturesque Alpine meadows. Surrounded by thick forests, this high-altitude pasture boasts approximately sixty huts, set against a backdrop of the Julian Alps to the west and the captivating Bohinj mountains to the south. My journey led me to the last golden larch tree at the southern edge of the pasture. Peering through its luminous branches, I watched as the sun gently dipped below the horizon. The snow-clad slopes momentarily lost their luster, as if time stood still. Ten minutes later, the clouds suddenly erupted into shades of pink and orange, casting their magnificent hues across the pasture and the encircling mountains.

Uskovnica, 1,130 meters

The trail from Planina Konjščica to Uskovnica traced the course of the Ribnica stream, winding through a pristine white landscape nestled between snow-capped rocks and majestic white fir trees. Ribnica stands as one of the rare permanent water streams in the Pokljuka region. This rarity cannot be attributed to a lack of rainfall—on the contrary, the average annual rainfall here ranges from 1,300 to 1,900 millimeters, with the foothills of Mt. Debela Peč receiving an astonishing 3,000 millimeters. The explanation lies in the subterranean network of lengthy crevices, caves, and rivers inherent to this karst high plateau. These formations swallow the water, replenishing the Bohinj and Upper Sava Valleys.